


Makeover

by missdorothysnarker



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Elizabeth ships it, Multi, Open Marriage, Polyamory, boys in makeup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 12:17:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13501518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdorothysnarker/pseuds/missdorothysnarker
Summary: Elizabeth puts makeup on Timmy. Armie has a lot of... feelings about it (a boner).





	Makeover

Elizabeth is sitting at her vanity, getting ready to go down to dinner, when Timmy ducks his head in. He goes boyishly bashful when he sees her alone in the room. Bouncing on the tips of his toes.

“Oh, sorry, I was just looking for Armie--”

She makes a split decision. 

“He's downstairs, but actually, Timmy, could you come in here and help me with this?”

She fiddles with the necklace chain she's struggling to clasp at the back of her neck.

Timmy bounds into the room like an overeager puppy.

“Oh yeah, sure!”

Despite the slender elegance of his fingers, they fumble clumsily with the gold clasp. 

“Sorry, haven't done this since I was a kid, for my sister...”

Elizabeth examines his reflection in the mirror, her long hair swept over one shoulder. The tip of his tongue pokes out of his mouth in concentration.

“Got it! There!”

He beams, pleased. “You look great, by the way. As always. Armie is such a lucky guy,” he sounds wistful.

“Thanks, honey.”

He fidgets, looking down as she turns to scrutinize his face. “Timmy, have you ever worn make up?” 

That gets some eye contact.

“What? You mean, like, not for movies or photoshoots? Umm, I guess maybe when Pauline had her emo phase she practiced doing eyeliner on me...”

Elizabeth's tone is clipped, commanding.

“Timmy, come here and sit down.”

They trade places, Timmy hunkering down in front of the vanity. 

“Are you going to let me have a little fun with your face?”

He shrugs.

“You mean like RuPaul's Drag Race kind of fun? Sure, let's get Armie another reason to make fun of me.”

Her heart clenches a little at his innocence as she thinks to herself, oh sweetie, you have no idea what this is gonna do to my husband. 

Elizabeth claps her hands, peering close to his face. Timmy's skin is flawless, milky in its translucence. Lightly sprinkled with freckles. The dark shadows beneath his eyes only make him look more like an androgynous, delicate-boned high fashion model. 

“Timmy, you have such perfect skin! I would kill for it, trust me! Let's see, just a little BB cream dabbed on, I think...” She squeezes out a dot of the creamy paste, rubbing it between her fingers to get a thin layer on his face.

“I don't even know what that it...” Timmy shuts his eyes to make the process easier.

“Just a light tinted moisturizer.”

“Oh, right...” That clearly doesn't ring any bells either. 

“Look up!” 

He complies and she brushes his upper lashes with mascara, then slicks his thick brows with clear gel.

“Ugh, I don't know how girls put up with this goop every day.”

She laughs. “You get used to it. And I happen to like it – as Armie will tell you, I refuse to leave the house without my face on! And don't worry, we're almost done here...”

He's patient as a doll as she dusts golden bronzer on the top of his cheekbones, and reddens his lips rosy raspberry with a balm stain.

She steps back, surveying him. 

He looks... like an ethereal, angelic creature, his natural boyish beauty only enhanced.

“What? Do I make a good drag queen?”

“Take a look for yourself.”

He does, staring at his reflection with his mouth open.

“Uh... Wow. I look... different.”

“You look what?” Armie breaks in on them, entering the room and startling them both.

When he sees Timmy, he stops dead, staring like he can't believe his eyes.

“Holy shit. Tim, what did you let her do to you?”

Timmy ducks his head down, immediately crestfallen. 

 

“I'm gonna take it off,” he mumbles.

Liz shoots Armie a look. He practically bounds across the room to them.

“No, I – that's not what I meant. You look... Holy shit, man. I barely recognize you. In a good way. You look like a fucking elf prince or something.”

Timmy dares to look up again, a little shy, still a little stung.

“Yeah?”

Armie swallows hard.

“Yeah.”

This is Elizabeth's time to exit.

“Excuse me for a moment,” she says, looking at her husband meaningfully as she sweeps past. He looks caught, panicked at being alone with the manic pixie dream boy she helped concoct. For his pleasure, his delectation? 

No, she scolds herself as she descends the stairs. Nothing like that. Timmy is family, but whether he is son or little brother or lover is yet to be determined. For her, anyway. Not for Armie, not at all.

Evidently he hadn't yet taken her leaving the Ethical Slut on his bedside table to heart.

+

When Elizabeth passes by the master bedroom door an hour later, she finds Timmy and Armie curled up on the bed, Timmy perched on Armie's lap, secured by an arm around his willowy waist. His lips are bitten and swollen from kisses, as evidenced by the red smeared on Armie's mouth. 

They're whispering to each other, lost in a world of their own. 

Armie runs his fingers through Timmy's curls, ruffling them even wilder. Timmy smiles and snuggles deeper into his arms, hooking his thumb into his mouth, the childishness of thumb-sucking somehow painfully erotic and sensual.

Elizabeth smiles to herself and shuts the door quietly, leaving her boys alone with each other.


End file.
